


A Future Without Compromise

by SilentScribe



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst and Romance, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Gay Sex, Grief/Mourning, Light BDSM, M/M, Propositions, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:50:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentScribe/pseuds/SilentScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a night marked by blood and grief, Maric leaves his future Queen's side to try to salvage his friendship with Loghain. When events spiral out of their control, everything changes for the three friends - and the slim chance of a brighter future hangs tantalizingly within reach.</p><p> (Takes place during the events of The Stolen Throne and contains spoilers for that novel.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Future Without Compromise

**Author's Note:**

> While this bit of smut stands alone, more or less, there's a lot more to come. The next chapter will be here just as soon as I can write it.

"He's waiting for you," Loghain said, the chill of the evening wind cutting through the too-crowded space between them. Rowan stood silently for a moment longer, staring out the window as though she might find some sign in the clouded night sky. She must have known it as well as he did, though—there was no sign, no signal, nothing that would change their fate. When she turned back, her eyes were shadowed.

She nodded. "Yes." She brushed past him, and then she was gone.

 

He wasn't given to doubt, but as he sat in front of the fire Loghain found he couldn't quite shake the feeling that everything was about to fall apart. He'd done what needed doing, for the sake of Maric, for the sake of Ferelden. The Orleisian spy, Katriel, was dead. Maric had killed her for her betrayal, proving at last that he had the strength in his spine to do what was necessary to rule his broken kingdom. And Rowan had gone to him, taking her place as his future Queen.

Everything he'd put in motion had fallen into place, all for the good of Ferelden. So why did he feel so hollow?

Was it what he'd done to Maric? Watching his friend realize the depth of Katriel's betrayal had cut him to the bone. Or the thought of Rowan, now lost to him forever? Back in the Deep Roads, he'd allowed himself to think for a moment that they might have a future. That strong, brave woman softening to him, letting him hold her and chase away her tears—it was something he'd dreamed of since the very start. Their lovemaking had been awkward, lying amongst the stones, and with the specter of her feelings for Maric so near. It had been tender, too, and long-anticipated. 

But to believe they had a chance had meant forgetting his suspicions about Katriel, suspicions that had returned nearly as soon as they'd reached the surface. Loghain believed he could have kept Rowan by his side, but it would have meant allowing Katriel to continue to tangle Maric in her web. Letting the elven spy become Queen, assuming she didn't sell them all out before Maric could reclaim the throne.

He'd be a traitor himself, all for the sake of his foolish heart. No, far better now that the truth was out. With Katriel dead, he could believe Ferelden had a future. His father's sacrifice might not have been in vain.

And now Maric was taking comfort from the horrors of the day in Rowan's arms. Maric, who all the women fell for. Maric, who confused lust and love so easily. Perhaps he was fathering his future heir even as Loghain sat there alone, imagining the two people he held most dear discovering the love they'd always been meant to forge between them. The love he'd only gotten in the way of by reaching beyond his station.

Rowan, padding quietly across the room in the dark. Her strong fingers curling in Maric's tousled blond hair as she pulled him close. An embrace that began as simple comfort becoming something more, something clutching and desperate. And then their lips would meet, pushed onward by grief and fear and a long-suppressed desire...

Loghain scowled and stood. Torturing himself would do no good at all. Instead, he'd find himself a stiff drink and keep the only company he'd ever been able to rely on—his own.

 

Loghain was half asleep in his chair when he heard the footsteps, and more than half drunk. He kept his eyes closed. There was no one in Gwaren that he wanted to see, and with soldiers bunked down in every free space of the hall, no reason to worry for his own safety.

Not that anyone would want to harm him, he thought with a silent laugh. For all he'd done for Maric's cause, no one would ever see a commoner like him as a threat.

A quiet voice broke through his awareness. "...Loghain?" Maric's voice, nearly as familiar to him as his own, but it sounded strange. He cracked open an eye.

Maric stood between him and the fire, which had burned down to embers. His eyes were red, and he was a mess. More so than usual. He was wearing only a loose linen shirt and trousers—no boots, and certainly nothing that marked him as the rightful King of Ferelden.

"You smell of sex," Loghain said bitterly. He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, even through his wine-soaked haze. "I... That was uncivil."

Maric looked away, angry color rising on his cheeks. "You sent her to me, didn't you? At first I thought she was there because she wanted me, even after... But she wasn't there for me, was she?"

Loghain swallowed, his mouth dry. Maric so rarely questioned what was before him. Had Katriel's betrayal opened his eyes? If so, there wasn't much hope for their continued friendship.

He forced himself to look up at his king. "Do you honestly believe I could make her go to you unwilling? _Rowan?_ " His voice filled with scorn. "She'd kill me, first." It wasn't a complete answer, but it was the best he could do without risking everything he'd set into motion.

"Don't treat me like a fool, Loghain. I know there's something between the two of you. After the Deep Roads—"

Loghain cut him off. "I comforted her when she realized she couldn't have you. That's all."

Maric considered that, running a hand through his hair. "I could believe that was true for her, maybe. But you? It might have taken me a while to notice, but I've seen the way you look at her." Loghain scowled. He wanted nothing less than he wanted Maric's pity.

"My feelings don't matter in this."

He could feel the gulf opening between them. Soon it would be as wide as it had been on the day his father died, but maybe that was as it should be. He'd done his job. Maric was ready to be king.

But his eyes were haunted. "Why, Loghain?"

"You two are meant for each other. You always have been. I was only standing in the way for a time."

Maric laughed without a hint of his usual good humor. "You believe too much in what's meant to be, my friend." He knelt before Loghain's chair, and Loghain's eyes widened. It was like some horrible parody of the day he'd sworn his oaths to his friend and king.

As Maric continued, he gripped the arms of the chair, trapping Loghain in place. "Your belief in my cause has been a source of strength, but the rest of it... You've never believed you were good enough for Rowan, or for your place by my side. You think you're just some nameless commoner. But I never would have made it this far without you. I never would have realized Katriel—" He stopped, paling.

"Maric, please..." Loghain was extremely uncomfortable with Maric's sudden proximity, his intense gaze.

"Let me finish." It wasn't the command of a king; it was the request of a friend. Loghain shut his mouth. "I've loved Rowan for as long as I can remember, but she doesn't love me. Or, not only me. I know I'll have to make hard choices if I'm to be king, but that doesn't mean I need to tear the hearts from my best friends."

"She must be your queen, Maric. The two of you together—Ferelden will follow you. You need her strength."

Maric smiled, the same shy grin Loghain remembered from the early days they'd spent together. "I need your strength, too. I let my heart fool me before, and it almost cost us everything. What kind of king will I be if I only listen to my heart when it's completely wrong?"

Loghain's pulse pounded in his ears. His head wasn't that muddled from the wine, but he didn't understand what Maric was trying to say. And Maric was far, far too close.

"Don't you see, Loghain? It doesn't have to be like this. You don't have to give everything up to me. I thought I had to choose: Rowan as my Queen, or you as my friend. I tried to fight it, turned away from you both so I wouldn't have to decide. But you're right—a king must be able to make his own decisions. So I'm choosing both."

Loghain was completely, utterly lost. He could hardly breathe. "...Both?"

"She can be my Queen…and your beloved. There's no reason—"

The blood left his face as he realized what Maric was saying, and he recoiled. "That's impossible. I couldn't do that to you. To either of you."

Maric shook his head, his eyes glittering in the dying firelight. "I can't do this without you. I need you, Loghain."

Loghain rubbed his face, trying to work out what Maric was saying. "You'll be a fine king without any more help from me." It was more of Maric's fanciful nonsense—a future without any compromises. He knew all too well that no such thing existed.

Then Maric's hands were wrapped around his wrists, pulling them gently down so he could look Loghain in the eye. "Not just as an advisor, Loghain. I need _you._ " Then he surged forward and pressed his lips to Loghain's.

The first thing Loghain thought was that his mouth must taste of sour wine. Somehow that was the only thing he could grasp as his lips parted for Maric, as Maric's hand wrapped around the back of his head and pulled him closer. And Maric... Maric tasted like copper, heat, and the faintest hint of sweetness. Of Rowan.

It was a heady combination, like a jolt straight to his groin. He still couldn't quite understand what was happening, except that Maric, his friend, his King, was leading him forward, off the chair and down onto his knees, and he went where Maric bid him.

He'd never thought of this—never dreamed of it in the years they'd fought side by side. But now, with Maric tugging his hips close, with Maric's tongue sliding over his teeth, he couldn't think of anything else. It had to be a dream, because nothing else made any sense. 

After all, it was Maric who held him. Maric whose strong hands were slipping under his shirt, cold against his feverishly warm skin. They'd spent a hundred nights lying next to each other as they journeyed across Ferelden and nothing like this had ever happened. In dreams, the strangest, most impossible things could happen. Things that defied the waking imagination. And if it was a dream, well, he could hardly make matters worse by enjoying it.

Loghain relaxed his jaw experimentally, and Maric's hot tongue slipped between his teeth to slide against his own. Maric moaned into his mouth and leaned into the friction between them. His kisses grew hungrier, and he devoured Loghain's mouth until Loghain broke away, gasping.

No, this was no dream. No dream had ever felt like this.

“Maric, wait,” he said, his voice uncommonly rough. Maric rocked back, releasing him immediately.

“I'm sorry. I thought you’d want this. If I was wrong…” Maric buried his face in his hands, but not before Loghain marked the desolation in his eyes. “Maker’s breath, I’m going to lose everything on the way to this throne."

“Don’t be an idiot,” Loghain snapped. “I’ve followed you this far, haven’t I? Just tell me why.”

Something in Maric's posture relaxed, but he still looked away, staring at the glowing coals that remained in the hearth. “I can feel it all slipping away. First Katriel—and then Rowan came to me, and I could tell she was holding something back. She was there for duty more than love. Lying with her, afterwards, all I could think was that I was going to lose both of you. I’ve seen how you look at each other. If I marry her, it could destroy us all.”

“So you thought you could repair an impossible situation by seducing me?” That made less sense than anything Maric had said so far. Loghain began to wonder if the trauma of the day had overcome his friend’s wits.

“No. Not quite,” Maric said, still refusing to look anywhere but the fire. “Everything was going to ruin, so I thought I couldn’t make anything worse by doing something I’ve wanted to do since…well, since the day we met, practically.”

Loghain reeled at the thought. They’d been travelling together for years, and he’d never suspected. Maric’s friendship had been a trial at times, and a blessing from the Maker at others, but had it been more than that? It wasn’t difficult to imagine Maric lusting after someone other than Rowan or Katriel—the man thought with his cock, after all—but him, of all people?

Maric continued. “It started when we travelled through the Korcari Wilds, when I fell ill. I think you still hated me, but you kept me safe until I could travel again. All I could think was that I’d feel so much better if you’d join me beside the fire. When my fever broke I tried to stop thinking about it, but I’ve always wondered."

“Wondered?” Loghain’s mouth was dry, and the air was charged with static. He didn’t want to move—moving might change everything.

“What it would feel like to have your body pressed up against mine. Whether your hands would be as skilled on my skin as they are with a bow. What you’re like when all that angry tension is wrung out of you, and if I could find a way to get you there.”

“Oh,” Loghain said, painfully aware of how lame it sounded. He’d spent so long supporting Maric, propping up his confidence and keeping him on the right path that he wasn’t sure what to do now that he was caught flat-footed. Maric’s words tugged at his desire, as did the fresh memory of his friend’s lips. But for once, he had no idea which way to go, or even how to move forward.

“You’ve never wondered?” Maric’s expression was guarded.

“No,” Loghain said. Resignation crept over his friend’s features, as much as he tried to hide it. Loghain swallowed hard. His pride told him to leave the matter alone, forget this night and move on with the path he’d prepared for all of them, but he found he already had Maric’s wrist in an iron grip. “I never wondered, but I’m wondering now, Maric.” Before he could remind himself that it wasn’t his place, Loghain leaned over and pulled Maric into a kiss.

It was different with his mind clear, without the element of surprise to hide behind. The disconnect was hard to reconcile—the friend he’d fought beside, nearly died beside more than once, was the man who was surrendering to his touch. Maric scrambled to find a better position without breaking away from Loghain, and they tumbled clumsily to the floor together.

If the faint brush of stubble on Maric’s cheek was enough to keep Loghain from forgetting that this was very, very different from his encounter with Rowan, the firm weight of Maric’s body stretched out along his own drove the point home. It wasn’t something he would have known to seek, but the pounding of his heart told him that this was something he wanted. 

His kisses were cautious, but there was heat behind them. Maric was less restrained. Emboldened by Loghain’s careful advance, he ran his hands over Loghain’s chest and nipped at his lower lip. He pressed his leg against Loghain’s groin and rocked in rhythm with their kisses. Loghain let his own hands wander, and they soon found Maric’s firm buttocks. With a groan, he tugged Maric closer, grinding the other man’s growing erection against his thigh and teasing a whimper from Maric’s throat.

Maybe it was an escape. Maybe they were both trying to forget the blood on their hands. But Loghain had spent too much time planning, arguing and fighting. He'd given up any hope for real happiness when he convinced Rowan to go to Maric—he no longer had the fortitude to push away this unexpected opportunity for pleasure. Even if it couldn’t last.

And it wouldn’t last—not if he didn’t take control of the situation. Their kisses had grown violent, and they were grinding against each other with abandon. Loghain was achingly erect. Maric showed no sign of slowing, so Loghain grabbed him by his messy blond hair and pulled his head back. His friend stopped and blinked down at him, his eyes glassy with lust. 

“Let me see you.” He hadn’t been able to see Rowan in the darkness of the Deep Roads—they had made love by touch alone. But here he and Maric wouldn’t be interrupted, and there was still some light from the embers of the fire. The storm had passed, and moonlight filtered in through the windows.

Maric sat up, still straddling Loghain’s leg, and stripped off his linen shirt. Loghain sat up on his elbows to watch, and was struck by just how wanton his friend looked. Not very regal, not with his lips swollen from kisses and his chest bare and heaving. He’d seen Maric without a shirt before, of course. He was familiar with his friend’s broad chest, lightly furred and bearing several ragged scars. But as with everything else, this was different. Maric had stripped for him, and his nipples pebbled—again, for him. Loghain’s cock responded possessively.

Still, Loghain felt a strange pang of disappointment. He supposed he’d expected Rowan to leave some mark on Maric, some trace of their lovemaking. She’d been vicious enough with Loghain, after all. But Maric’s chest was untouched, with none of the scratches or bite marks he expected.

Loghain found himself unexpectedly tempted to remedy that lack.

“The rest,” he said, his voice rough. Maric knelt and undid his trousers, his hands trembling slightly as he shoved them off his hips. He wore nothing underneath. Loghain’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Maric’s cock, thick and ruddy, well-proportioned to the man. He wondered what he was meant to do with it, though he’d been around soldiers long enough to know what men did with one another. But did any of that apply here, to them?

“Is this okay?” Maric asked nervously. A surge of compassion overwhelmed Loghain’s confusion. Maric was as far out of his depth as Loghain, and far more vulnerable. Loghain was too used to banishing his own feelings, but if there was ever a situation which demanded feeling and not thinking, it was this.

So he sat up and pulled Maric to him, growling an affirmation as he kissed a hot trail across the other man’s chest. “Lay back,” he commanded and Maric—his King, his friend—obeyed. He ran his hand roughly through the hair on Maric’s chest, and followed its trail down to his heavy cock. With a deep breath, he wrapped his hand around that velvety shaft and marvelled at the way Maric arched to meet his touch. 

It wasn’t so difficult as he might have imagined. Maric liked the things Loghain liked—the firm stroke of a strong hand, his thumb occasionally sweeping over the head of Maric’s cock. Maric moaned at his touch, filling Loghain with the strangest sense of power. He, of all people, could make his King so helpless? But it would be too easy to just bring him off. Instead, he took Maric a good distance toward that end, judging by the way his ragged breaths suddenly faltered, and then released him.

Maric’s eyes opened wide. “Maker’s breath, Loghain, don’t stop.” He reached down to take himself in hand, so Loghain grabbed him by the wrist. 

“Not yet,” Loghain said. He tugged Maric's trousers the rest of the way off and leaned down over his friend.

Maric’s skin tasted faintly of soap—he’d wiped himself down after leaving Rowan in his bed. That seemed like a pity, somehow. But Loghain shoved that thought aside as he pinned Maric’s shoulders and kissed his way up over the hard planes of Maric’s chest. He tongued one rigid nipple and sucked it between his teeth. Maric’s moan turned into a muffled cry as Loghain bit down, and Maric twisted under him.

But he could feel Maric’s cock jump against his stomach at the painful sensation, echoing a rush of desire to his own groin. He dug the fingers of one hand harder into Maric’s shoulder and cupped the other behind his friend’s straining neck. He ran his tongue up that thick column and stopped midway to kiss and suck the sensitive skin. Maric tipped his head back to give Loghain more space to work, and he took it, biting down hard enough to bruise. Again Maric cried out, and Loghain reached up to silence him. 

He missed his mark, however. His fingertips bumped against Maric’s lips, which parted willingly for him. Maric took full advantage, running his tongue along two of the digits and sucking them eagerly. Loghain could almost imagine how the sinful sensation would feel elsewhere, and he lost himself for a moment in the image of his fist in Maric’s pretty blond hair as his friend swallowed his cock.

His fingers sliding slickly over Maric’s lips gave him another idea, however. He pumped them between those lips, fucking Maric’s mouth with his fingers, and whispered roughly in his ear. “I’m going to put these fingers inside you, Maric.” Maric bucked beneath him, his ragged moan vibrating through Loghain’s fingers. Loghain pulled his fingers free and tested their slickness against his thumb. He wasn’t sure, but he thought it might be enough.

He opened Maric’s legs with one knee and ran his fingers up and down the crack of the other man’s ass. Maric’s harsh intake of breath warned him that another cry was impending, so he muffled he sound with his mouth. Emboldened by all they’d done already, Loghain explored his friend’s mouth freely with his tongue. Maric did the same, both of them pausing only to gasp for air.

One slick finger rested against Maric’s entrance, and the other man twisted to try to move against it. It was all the encouragement Loghain needed to press forward, pushing inward. He pushed past a tight ring of muscle as Maric groaned into his mouth. He wasn’t sure how fast he should go, but whatever pain Maric felt was obviously outweighed by pleasure, so he began to move—slowly at first, and then faster as Maric encouraged him with eager sounds that came from deep in his throat. Aside from the obvious, it wasn't that different than being with Rowan. A matter of staying quiet and paying attention, mostly.

“More,” Maric begged, and this time it was Loghain who obeyed. He slid another finger in beside the first with some difficulty, then began to fuck Maric with them in earnest. 

Loghain was gratified to see Maric’s eyes squeeze shut as he turned his face aside, too overcome by pleasure and pain to pay much mind to the man attending to him. Loghain found that he enjoyed watching Maric’s face in the room’s dim light, seeing his every motion reflected in his friend’s expression. Maric was helpless under his touch, a powerful feeling that had Loghain rock hard. He scissored his fingers carefully to see what it would do, and almost moaned himself at the desperate noise Maric made in response.

He wanted more, though. Much more. And for once, he thought he might be able to have it. As uneasy as the idea made him, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to resist.

"You clearly enjoy my fingers. Let's see how you do with my cock." Loghain said, his voice more certain than he felt. Maric's eyes snapped open, and doubt colored his expression. 

"I'm not sure that's—" Maric began, then trailed off as Loghain adjusted his fingers. The new angle was enough to make Maric's eyes roll back. "Maker's breath, Loghain, if you can do that with your cock..."

"Why don't we find out?" Loghain asked, carefully pulling his fingers free. Maric still whimpered at the sudden absence, though.

Loghain didn't bother to undress, and when Maric rose to help him he pushed his friend back down. Ferelden's rightful King on his back, spread open for him—it was too pretty a sight. Loghain's cock ached to be touched, but it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge. He knew where he wanted to be when that happened. 

He spared a moment to worry about whether he might hurt his friend, taking him here on the ground with nothing to ease their way. But they'd both been shot and cut half to pieces and still come through just fine—surely they could survive a rough fuck. He spit in his hand and stroked his cock a couple times, smoothing a little of the liquid that had gathered at the tip over his length for good measure. 

Then he looked up, meeting Maric's gaze. It was clear his friend enjoyed having him take control, but this was a line he didn't want to cross without being sure. Thankfully, while there was trepidation in Maric's expression, he also jerked his head in a nod. And bit his swollen lip, causing Loghain's pulse to kick up inexplicably. 

As soon as he knelt between Maric's legs, he realized the angle would be impossible—at least with his inexperienced touch. He pulled a cushion from the nearby chair and tugged Maric's hips up so he could slide it underneath, which helped the issue of height. Maric still looked far too nervous, so Loghain reached between them as he leaned forward and stroked his friend's cock with a firm hand. It took only a few strokes for Maric 's breath to grow ragged once more, and Loghain slid the head of his cock against Maric's ass as he stroked. 

Soon enough, Maric writhed in place as he tried to find a way to take Loghain's cock into himself, and Loghain knew he was ready. He pressed the head of his cock to the entrance of Maric's passage, heart in his throat, and pushed forward. Maric's eyes widened, but he didn't fight the intrusion. He rolled his shoulders and lifted his hips to help, sucking in deep, pained breaths. Then the head of Loghain’s cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle, and Maric gasped in pain that was clearly far beyond any pleasure. Loghain stilled, wondering if he’d made an awful mistake. Maric's erection had flagged, and his friend spent a long moment just breathing through the pain.

But despite Maric’s suffering, Loghain was still achingly hard and desperate to drive deeper. He wasn't sure what it meant, that Maric's pain hadn't disturbed his own arousal in the slightest. That the pain on Maric's face stirred something powerful in Loghain's core. He was half-buried in the tightest sheath he could imagine, and even the smallest motions of Maric’s body were driving him mad with agonizing pleasure.

And then, slowly, Maric started to move beneath him. 

It took every ounce of Loghain's willpower to stay still as Maric shifted, until he found a position where he was comfortable moving a little more. And then more, until his eyes widened in something closer to pleasure than pain. That's when Loghain chose to move, thrusting a little deeper with great care. Maric rocked his hips experimentally, and Loghain took it as permission, thrusting deeper with each stroke until he was fully sheathed in his friend’s ass. He paused there, breathing hard, not sure if he could hold back long enough to fully enjoy the opportunity laid out before him.

"Maker," Maric breathed. He looked up at Loghain, who was barely moving above him, and something in his demeanor shifted. "Fuck me, Loghain. Please, just..."

Hearing Maric beg for his cock was far too much for Loghain, who moved to do as he was bid. He strained forward so he could reach Maric's lips while they moved together, and they kissed hungrily, messily. But Loghain's thrusts weren't eliciting the desperate whimpers he wanted to hear, so he pulled back to focus.

It took a few experimental strokes until he found the right angle, which was shallower than he'd like. But it was more than worth the effort to have Maric arching and writhing beneath him. Maric's fingers dug into his clothed back, and his cock was a rigid brand between them. Loghain reached down, thinking to help his friend to his climax, but he'd barely wrapped his hand around Maric's cock when Maric arched his back and convulsed, spilling hot seed over Loghain's fist. He buried his teeth in Loghain’s shoulder, muffling a long, agonized cry as he came.

Loghain was nearly overcome himself, but some eager part of him wanted to see how far he could take this. If this was to be the only time he saw Maric wanton and willing, he wanted to make it thoroughly memorable. He slowed his thrusts enough to focus and raised his sticky fingers. He curled his lip in mock disgust. "Clumsy, Maric. I expect that you’ll clean up this mess."

Even spent as he was, Maric was eager to please. He took Loghain's hand and raised it to his lips, licking tentatively and scowling at the bitter taste of his own seed. 

"I could find you a cloth if I weren’t so busy,” Maric said with a share of his usual good humor, then sucked one of Loghain's fingers into his mouth. It felt so good that Loghain nearly collapsed down to his elbows. It was worse when Maric took a second, and then a third. It was like Loghain was bound taut by a wire, the overwhelming feeling of fucking his dearest friend matched with the slide of Maric's tongue over his fingers, and the eagerness with which Maric debauched himself for Loghain's pleasure.

The only warning he had was a sudden tightness in his sac. Thrusting hard, the surge of his climax making him forget Maric’s well-being, he drove his cock into his friend again and again, growling in inarticulate pleasure as he spent himself deep in Maric’s ass.

Maric shuddered pleasantly as Loghain first pulled his fingers free, and then his softening cock. Loghain wanted nothing more than to collapse there on the floor beside his friend, but his attentive nature wouldn't allow it. Instead he made his way to the wash basin and cleaned himself up, then brought a cool, damp cloth so Maric could do the same. 

Loghain allowed himself the final pleasure of watching Maric dress, the firm lines of his body shifting in the moonlight, every inch of him glistening with proof of their exertion. It gave him a moment to catch his breath, to calm the frantic pounding of his heart. To prepare to do what needed to be done. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

"I should leave."

Maric stared at him, confused by the sudden change in tone. "It's your room, Loghain."

Loghain shook his head, suddenly full of regrets he couldn't quite put a name to. "Not the room. Gwaren. This was..." He struggled to find a word for it, one that could encompass how he felt, but none were quite right. "Exceptional, in all senses. It obviously can't happen again."

Maric scowled. "And you call me an idiot. Maker's breath, would you really abandon me even now?" 

Loghain's heart ached, but he couldn't see any way around it. "This has just complicated matters more. We're divided enough already, thanks to my inconvenient feelings for Rowan.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his tone. "Would you have me stay until none of us can stand being in the same room?"

He wasn't sure what to expect when Maric crossed the distance between them. A violent shake, or the punch he was starting to think he deserved. Certainly not Maric's arms around him in a firm, unyielding embrace.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Maric said quietly in his ear. "There's a way this can all work out. Rowan loves us both. We both love her. And..." He paused, weighing his next words. "And maybe I’m wrong, but I think we bear some love for each other.”

Loghain could hardly deny it as he stood there with his heart breaking. Despite his best effort, his anguish came through in his voice. "Hopelessly complicated, as I said."

Maric held him like he could hold back all the pain yet to come, but there was a hint of a smile in his voice. "Or incredibly simple. The three of us have made it this far together. Why can't we go further?"

For a moment, Loghain thought he understood what Maric was proposing, and hope rose in his chest. Only for a moment. Even if he was right, even if this wasn’t just some idiotic misunderstanding, what Maric wanted was impossible. Maric would be king. He couldn't afford such indiscretions.

Maric echoed his thoughts."If all goes well, I'm to be King. With you and Rowan at my side, I might even be a good one.” Then joy suffused his voice, and he pulled back so Loghain could see his happy smile. "If I can manage that, no one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors.”

There were several obvious objections Loghain knew he should make. The risks were incredible, and that was even supposing Rowan would ever agree to such an arrangement. But he’d spent so long convincing himself that there was no good way through for them, that Maric’s ascension would require all three of them to sacrifice the things they held most dear. 

If that wasn’t the case… If there was a path forward that meant they could all be happy… Didn’t he owe it to his friends to try?

Loghain raised a hand to Maric’s cheek. It still felt like a violation of all the rules of their friendship, but they’d broken far more than that in reaching this point. He leaned forward and kissed Maric with all the force of his love, fear and devotion behind it. When he pulled back, his eyes prickled with tears. His voice was rough. “You’re my King, Maric. If you think this is the right path, then I’ll take it with you.”

But Maric just shook his head. “Not in this, Loghain. I’m sure there will be times when I need you to follow my commands without question, as well as your advice has served me so far. But in this, we’re equals. If we do this, it's as friends, or…or lovers. Not as King and subject.” 

"And Rowan?"

"We'll just have to strive to be equal to her, too." Maric said it with a grin, but Loghain knew it was true. She was too good for either of them. For some reason she seemed to love them both, though. Maybe this would give him the chance to make himself worthy of her. 

“Then I’m willing.” Loghain raised a hand in caution as Maric’s eyes lit up. “ _If_ Rowan accepts. I enjoyed this, but I won’t be the cause of her pain."

Maric nodded, taking his concern seriously. “I won’t betray my Queen. But between the two of you, I bet she’ll be the easier one to convince.”

A horrible idea crept its way into Loghain’s thoughts. “Surely all this wasn’t just to convince me to go along with your scheme.” 

Maric laughed, a surprising sound in the quiet room. “Maker’s breath, Loghain. Do you really think I let you hold me down and fuck the very life from me just to convince you to stay by my side and keep Rowan happy?”

It sounded idiotic out loud, particularly when he remembered the wanton desire written plainly on Maric's face. A memory that would keep him warm through many long nights to come, no matter how this scheme of Maric's turned out.

"No. No, of course not." Loghain hoped that Maric couldn't see him blush. He changed the subject. "Did I satisfy your curiosity?" 

"Expertly," Maric said with an easy smile. "I still wonder what you'll be like if I can wring this angry tension out of you, though. I hope you'll give me another chance to try."

Loghain doubted they'd ever spend another night like this. He was certain that Maric would regret his proposition by morning. But as his friend pressed himself close to Loghain and claimed another violent, hungry kiss, Loghain couldn't help but allow himself to hope. 

Everything they'd fought for was so close they could almost grasp it. Maybe they wouldn't have to sacrifice everything that mattered to them along the way.


End file.
